Ma Matinwald's Old Book
by I find my presence embarassing
Summary: A republishing of the classic fairy tale collection  with new preface , Ma Matinwald's Old Book is sure to delight old and young alike, whather the tales they find within are familiar or new.
1. Preface

"Ma Matinwald's Old Book"  
New Preface by Lynette Longman.

There is a strange coincidence between the childhood of magical children and their Muggle compatriots. In the last 18th and early 19th century, The Brothers Grimm assembled Muggle folktales, in the German speaking part of the world. A century earlier, Charles Perrault assembled his own collection of French Folk Tales and rhymes. These two collections strangely resemble two collections within our own world: The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and Ma Matinwald's Old Book. The Tales of Beedle the Bard are parallel to the collections of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, though Beedle's book predates the birth of these two men. This book is more like the writings of Charles Perrault, or like the collection called "Mother Goose", another Muggle collection whose origins are less than clear. Ma Matinwald has been claimed to be many historical figures, from the wife of the first Minister of Magic, to the grandmother of famous Quidditch player Mario Le Miew. While some of these claims have some evidence for them (it is well known that Le Miew's grandmother read him fairy tales, and he sometimes tried to use these to inspire his team when he was captain of the French National Team, to the disgruntlement of many of the other players), it is clear that none of the proposed witches were named Matinwald, and most Matinwald researchers agree she simply represents the archetypal grandmother figure.

Ma Matinwald's Old Book has seen many different editions published, and many unpublished as well. The shortest known edition contained only one rhyme, the Tail of Timtim. It read "Timtim had said, fervefacioed, then his tail turned red, and then he was dead." It famously sold only two copies, one of which was immediately returned for a refund, and so this is became of the rarest books in the wizarding world. The longest known edition contains over 800 tales and rhymes, most of which appear to have made up by the 'editor' Gail Grossman, whose work has mostly been discredited (she has also had the audacity to try and discredit those of us in the field whose research is true, thankfully her efforts have been largely unsuccessful).

This edition aims to restore the original tales in their original form. Obviously, it is nearly impossible to create a truly authentic edition, but with careful research, near perfection can be reached. We are pleased to present to you "Ma Matinwald's Old Book, New Edition".  



	2. The Foolish and The Wise

The Foolish and The Wise

An old wizard had two sons, an older and a younger. The elder son was seen as somewhat foolhardy around the town. Whenever his father had given him a task in his use, it had (through laziness, accident, or otherwise) not been accomplished correctly. His father had slowly learned to give responsibility to his younger brother instead, and so the elder brother lived a charmed life, mostly free of responsibility, courting many of the young maids about the town and living a life of leisure. The younger son was quiet, and darker. He took the responsibilities his father gave to him, but secretly resented the freedom of his brother. Even if the task was small, he grew to hate it. He would do it diligently, but resented every moment.

The old wizard knew he was coming to the end of his life, and wished to divide his belongings between his two sons in his will. He did not want his gifts to be squandered, nor given to an unworthy candidate. The mused for a long time over what to give who, and finally called his sons together.

"My sons," he said, "I am not long for this world. I want you each to take one of my possessions and use it for a time. Whatever your heart desires, consider it your own."

The younger son did not have to muse for any time at all. "Father," he said, "Let me use your cloak of invisibility."

The father did not know what to think of the request, but smiled regardless. "It is in the cloak room, my son. Wear it well."

The young son bowed out of the room, and ran all the way to the room where the treasured cloak resided.

The father turned to his elder son. "And what does your heart desire?"

The older son thought long and hard. He loved his father dearly. He happened to look out the window, and see the long grass that needed threshing, a task his father would normally do. He knew that his father was old, and tired, and did not look forward to the work.

"Father," he said, "give me the magical scythe, the one that will keep the grass low for many months after it has been cut."

The old wizard was reluctant. He was sure that when a pretty girl came up the road, or the sun got too hot, his son would abandon his work and the grass would be left uncut. He had, however, promised both sons whatever they so desired, and he handed the scythe to his elder son.

The next day, the older son set to work cutting the grass. Unbeknownst to his, both his father and brother watched him work, his father from the high tower window, and his brother from under the cloak of invisibility, sitting against a tree.

The day was long, and the sun grew hot. The father watched his son sweating away, growing more fearful by the minute that he son would quit his post, and head inside the cool stone walls for the day. The younger son watched his brother brow more and more tired, and yet work harder and harder, and eventually he grew so gleeful that he laughed outright.

His brother looked up, and said "What a strange, ugly bird call. I wonder what it looks like."

His brother had to suppress further laughs, but finally fell asleep in the cool, pleasant shade of the tree.

The older brother only worked harder and harder as the day went on, and by the end he had cut one third of the grass.

The next day, the older one went again to cut the grass, and once again his father and brother watched from their removed posts. The sun was even hotter, and yet the older brother slaved away in the heat. A maid from the village happened to walk by, one noted for her beauty throughout the region.

"John," she said, for that was the name of the elder brother, "wouldn't you like to take me for a walk around the pond."

He smiled and said simply, "But I have work to do."

"Is it for a bet?" She asked, for she knew of his idle habits.

He shook his head and continued to work. She grew haughty, and walked away with her nose in the air.

The younger brother had watched the whole scene, and wished it had been he, instead, that could have escorted the young maid around the pond. Alas, he was invisible, though he felt he might have been unseen even if uncloaked. A bitterness rose from within him, and he made to follow her down the road, at a distance.

The young maid stopped a little while down the road, and began to pick sweet-smelling flowers for a bouquet. As the young brother watched her, he grew more and more angry at the gulf he felt between her pretty life and his own, and in his anger cast a spell that caused her face to distort, and discolour. She went to brush her hair behind her ear, but upon not finding it in its usual place, gave a shriek of horror and felt her unfamiliar features. She immediately began to cry and shout, and the younger brother snuck back to his own house, to read quietly in his room as though nothing had happened.

The elder brother, however, worked the whole day, and on this day finished half the yard, so only a little remained.

The next day started much as the last two had, with the elder brother working and his brother and father watching, though on this day dark storm clouds brewed on the horizon.

The elder brother looked at the storm clouds thoughtfully.

"I had better work fast and hard if I am to finish my work before the storm comes," he said."

While he toiled in the field, another one of the pretty maids from the village came down to see him.

"There is going to be a party tonight," she said. "Will you come?"

"Maybe," he said, "If I finish all my work."

She was as incredulous as the girl the day before had been, but went on her way.

The younger brother stewing in his anger from his watching place under the tree. Why had he not been invited? Why had his brother not asked if he, too, could go? He resolved to go to the party anyway, under the invisibility cloak.

The older brother worked harder than ever, and when the first few droplets of rain fell, he was done. His brother had headed for cover much earlier, and the older son got quite wet as he walked back to the house.

As he sat drying off in the study, his father came up to him.

"Son," he said, "You've worked hard. I've never been prouder of you."

His son thanked him, and put up his feet by the fire.

The younger son, was, however, going out into the rain. He sulked down the road, hunched over, even though he was hidden to the eye by the precious cloak. He followed the noise and the lights to the home of the girl who had invited his brother to the party, a girl he happened to be in love with. There were sounds of people laughing and music inside, and his heart was cold and hard against such happiness. He went inside when the doorway was free, and went up the stairs to the bedroom of the young maiden.

He first sat in the cozy little chair, and then on the edge of her bed, before finally concealing himself behind the door. A moment later, she entered, her cheeks rosy with good health and cheer. She sat upon the chair, and sprung up again instantly.

"Why, it's wet!" she exclaimed.

She sat at the edge of the bed, and jumped up even faster.

"This, too. Who has been in my room?" she wondered out loud.

The younger brother threw of his cloak and stepped out from behind the door.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, panicked.

"Why, don't you want me here?" he asked slyly.

"No!" she cried. "Get out!"

He stared at her for a moment, his expression growing colder and colder, but he left, the cloak clutched to his chest.

Meanwhile, the older brother had decided to stop in at the party, as a reward for his hard work over the week. He took the horse and trotted up the road.

The younger brother left the house, fuming. He turned back to the bright happy house, and his anger consumed his thoughts. He waved his wand, and at once the house was enveloped in flames.

The older brother was just arriving, and saw the flames leap faster than possible, on damp or soaking wet places that would not normally catch fire. He waved his own wand, and the downpour increased and squashed out the flames. He thought he heard a swish of a cloak and an angry word, but when he turned his head, he saw nothing. He rode back to his own house, soberly and in deep thought.

The next morning, the elder brother rose early to speak with his father.

"Father," he said, "I believe my brother has been doing foul things."

"I know it, my son," came the sad reply from his old father.

It was then that they heard a tremendous thump from below them, and they raced down the stairs to investigate.

The younger brother, too, had risen early. Eager to get outside to exact his revenge on the whole town for his perceived injustice, he had simply thrust his hand into the cloak closet where he had left the invisibility cloak.

Alas! he had let his rage blind him, and it was not a cloak he grabbed and threw upon himself, but a Lethifold lying in wait. He had sealed his own doom by throwing it upon his own back, and it choked him. He fell to the ground with an enormous thump, which his father and brother had heard upstairs.

They drove back the Lethifold, and it fled into the countryside, but it was too late for the poor younger brother. So the older brother deservedly got the inheritance, as he had turned from foolishness to wisdom and hard work, and the younger brother got nothing, because he had turned into a dead fool.

This older version of a familiar tale is the first known edition. Later versions give the story a happy ending, where Lethifold is killed, and the younger brother is given only the scythe as his inheritance, a reminder to work hard, and brood not. A common difference between this and later tellings is that the second maiden will also ask if the elder brother in the story if he is participating in a bet, and though this humorous touch is well loved by many, it is not a part of the original story. It is a somewhat longer tale than most, and it logically follows that it will have more versions, with details changed, added, or omitted. Another common change is that all the events will take place on the same day, rather than over a span of five days. 


	3. The Harpy

The Harpy

There once was a very unhappy wizard, made unhappy by his nagging wife. He had married her for her beauty, but that did not make up for her sharp tongue and her complaining. She was constantly on him, screeching or shrieking, and it came to the point where he considered life unbearable.

One morning he awoke, and before he even rose his wife was nagging.

"Why aren't you up yet?" she shouted. "Go collect the eggs!"

And so he miserably shuffled off to do his morning chores. It was a blessed relief from his wife's voice, but the minute he finished and stepped back into the house she was yelling again.

"Why did you wear you dirty boots inside? Take them off and clean up that mess this instant!"

And so, unhappily, he did as he was told.

When he finally sat down to his breakfast, he had barely taken the first bite when his wife snorted.

"Look at how disgracefully small this meal is! How bare our table is! Why don't you work harder so we have more money?"

In truth, the man worked very hard, and she worked very little, but he remained silent as he ate his food.

"Scrub out the cauldron!" she yelled at him the very second he had swallowed the last morsel. "I have some potions I want to make."

And so he did.

"Look at my robes!" she shrieked next. "They're old and worn! Only you could treat your loving wife in such a way. Fetch my wand, so that I may mend them!"

And so he did.

She stuck out her tongue when he returned, her wand in hand.

"Look at how filthy you've got it. Quickly, polish it, I won't dirty my hands just because you haven't cleaned yours."

And so he did, but as he rubbed it, black sparkles came out of the end.

He looked up at her. He had an odd gleam in his eye, a look of defiance she had never seen before.

"What are you doing?" she insisted. "Give that to me!"

"Ok," he said, and he hit her over the head with it.

She immediately began to change, shrinking down towards the ground. Feathers sprouted from her skinny arms, and he legs turned scaly, and her feet changed into sharp talons. Soon, she was little more than an overgrown bird, though she had sprouted three breasts, and her pretty face still remained the same.

"What have you done to me?" she screamed, flapping her wings uselessly.

"I just was thinking that your outside you match your inside." He replied happily.

She shrieked, an even more unearthly noise, and he noticed a foul odour about her. She raked her talons across his face, and as he fell back, she attacked him more. Once he was dead, she nibbled on him a bit.

"He doesn't even taste good yet!" she snarled, her hideous yellow teeth covered in red blood. "I'll have to let him ripen up a bit."

Poor unhappy man! But at least the harpy harped on him no more.

The harpy is rarely changed very much from it's original setting, though many will change the specific things she nags him about. The wand always comes last, however, so that the final climax of the story may be reached. 


	4. SeeAll the Diviner

See-All the Diviner

There once was a beautiful young witch named See-All. From a very early age, she would see flashes of things to come, sometimes in still pools of water, or in the leaves left when tea was finished. The people of her town greatly admired her talent, and she usually had a companion, so that she might them tell the things she saw.

One day, the king rode through her town. She was walking with the oldest and wisest townswoman, and the king found himself behind them on the path.

"Look," said See-All to the woman, pointing to a still pool. "There will be a set of twins born soon."

The king asked the old woman what See-All was talking about.

"Oh, she just saw a pregnant fish." Said the old woman, and hurried See-All away.

It so happened that the next day, the king rode through the town, and this day rode past See-All and the old woman on the street.

"Look," said See-All to the old woman, pointing to the clouds. "Someone is going to die, soon."

The king again asked the old woman what See-All was saying.

"Just a bird in the sky," said the old woman, and again she ushered See-All away.

On the third day, See-All walked alone. Her mother had given birth to twins, and the old woman had passed away in her sleep. The king was riding through her town again, and saw her sitting on a stone, holding a teacup in her hands.

She looked up to him from the cup.

"Someone is going to leave this town forever," she said sadly.

He had heard about her predictions, and this was the nail in the proverbial coffin. He whisked her up on his horse, and took her to his castle.

The next day, he called her to his throne room. There was a bowl of clear water waiting.

"Seer," he said, "tell me. Should I wage war to the south?"

She looked in the bowl, but she did not what he wanted her to see.

"Someone very dear to you is going to take ill," she said. "Make sure the doctor is close at hand."

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, and out of spite, sent the doctors away. That night, his only son took ill, and without the aid of the doctors, died.

The next day, he summoned her again, and bid her look out the window.

"Tell me, Seer," he said, "should I wage war to the West?"

She looked to the clouds, but did not see what he wanted her to see.

"My lord," she said, "there will be a devastating fire."

He sent her away again, angrier than before. He ordered his most treasured possessions be loaded into his royal carriages, pulled by his fastest and most beautiful horses. That same night, lightning struck the stables and all his horses perished, and his most treasured possessions were lost.

The next day, she was again ordered to the throne room. The king seized her by her hair, and pushed an empty teacup into her hands.

"Tell me, diviner," he said. "Do the tea leaves tell you anything about a war to the East?"

She looked in the cup, and saw.

"I see a great battle to the East. One side will be triumphant and victorious, and one will suffer a great loss."

The king released her and ordered the army be mustered. She began to cry, for she knew that the foolish king would not be victorious. She caught her tears in her hands, and saw in the water a vision of flames, growing larger and larger. The water in her hands grew hot, and she opened them in surprise, and the vision vanished.

The king raised an army, and in the east a greater and more powerful army met them, and the army of the east destroyed the western one.

The king returned, and seized See-All by the throat.

"Tell me what you have seen," he snarled.

"Flames," she said, terrified. "Fire growing by the minute."

"That will be your funeral pyre, upon which you will be thrown alive!" the king said, and she was thrown in the dungeon to await her fate.

The next day, she was publicly brought out in chains. A huge pile of wood stood for to burn her alive, upon which many people had thrown their own possessions: chairs, brooms, even spinning wheels.

The king saw her gazing up at the sky.

"What do you see now?" he smirked.

"Only a bird, flying away, and nothing more," she replied sadly, staring up at the clouds.

"People," yelled the king. "This woman has made the most horrible plights befall our kingdom. We'll burn her, as to put an end to her heinous witchcraft."

And so she was thrown upon the pile, and the pile lit.

The twisted and writhed, the wood beneath her growing hotter by the second. The smoke obscured her for a minute, and the jeering crowd cheered her death.

Suddenly, something shot out of the smoke. It was See-All, astride an old broom, a rowan wand in her hand. She merely waved, and flew away, and was never seen again in the kingdom.

See-All is a strange tale relating to out Muggle brethren. First, she lives peacefully among them, but later they try to exploit her magical gifts and abuse her. It follows the archetypal view of witches and wizards by Muggles: first, an attempt to enslave and use to their own benefit, and afterwards persecution. This was often true in the middle ages, where Muggles would go to witches and wizards for curative help, but would turn on them afterwards. However, the story features a curiously progressive view of Muggles early on in the story, one where they are aware of each other, and living peacefully. While still idyllic by today's standards, it is a pleasant change from the norm. The moral for young children seems to be "Let your gifts be used, but not abused." 


	5. Silent Heart

The Silent Heart

There one was a beautiful young witch, and a handsome young wizard, and they were deeply in love. There was another young witch who was, too, in love with the wizard, and she was called Cunning. She thought of nothing else than the young wizard, and how to win his affections. She could see, however, that he thought of nothing else than the witch he loved, who was called Belle.

One day, she invited Belle out for a walk. Belle was wary, as she knew of Cunning's love of her beau, but she gave Cunning the benefit of the doubt and walked with her.

As they walked, they spoke of the handsome wizard, and Cunning said her affections had waned. They walked beside the foamy river, and Cunning did not push Belle in. They walked on the high mountain path, and Cunning did not push Belle from a high cliff.

Belle relaxed. 'Perhaps she is telling the truth after all,' she thought. 'Perhaps she means me well.'

When they parted, they embraced, and Belle wished Cunning well in life.

Cunning smiled. "I hope your life with your love is charmed," she said, "but you will be cursed!"

She swung her arm in the air, and a jet of light hit the unsuspecting Belle. At first her mouth was frozen in an 'o' of surprise, but the curse shut her mouth, and froze it there.

At that point, the young wizard in question happened to walk down that very street.

"Hello, love," he said to Belle, and he put his arm around her.

Try as she might she could not respond, in fact she could not move her mouth at all.

He looked hurt. "Is this a bad time?"

But she could only stare at him. He walked away, trying to shrug off the off-putting response.

Her rival, Cunning, smirked and walked away as well, leaving a horrified Belle to stand in silence.

Belle tried the whole night, but she could not speak, open her mouth or even hum.

The next day, her young love stopped by her house, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done wrong," he said. "Can I please come inside?"

She could only stare at him with pleading eyes.

"Will you take the bouquet?" he asked, and she took it from his hands. It smelled divine, but she could not tell him so.

"Don't you like it?" he again asked, but no reply fell from her lips.

"I love you," he said finally, in a desperate tone. "Won't you tell me you love me too, as you've always done? What happened to your eternal love?"

But she could no more verbally return his love than she could fly to the moon.

At last, he took her in his arms and kissed her. But her lips were frozen, and she could not return the kiss.

"I see that you no longer want me. I wish you would tell me why," he said, and he left her, crying silently on her step.

Along the way, he met Cunning, who had been waiting for him.

"Tell me," he said, "you were with my love yesterday. What has happened?"

"I must confess to you what she told me, because it breaks my heart to see you in such pain." She said. "She told me that she no longer loves you, and does not wish to see you any more. She will remain silent when you speak to her, she will not kiss you, she will not sing any more, as long as you are within her sight."

But if only he had looked in her eyes! He would have seen greed, and deviousness, not the devotion and longing of his true love.

Belle took the bouquet he had given her, and planted the flowers in the dirt beside her house.

Again, she stayed up the whole night, trying to find a way to speak. Nothing could pry her lips apart, and nothing could make her voice sound.

The next day, the wizard stopped by her house again. When she opened the door, her face was grey and ashen, and there were dark circles under her eyes. But her love did not see them.

He held out a ring to her. "I know you want to be rid of me," he said, "but you are my life. Please, just tell me that you'll be mine, and we'll be married tomorrow."

But she could not reply. Dejected, he walked away. Again, he found Cunning on the street, waiting for him.

"Well?" she asked, pretending to hope for his happiness.

"She would not say she loved me," he replied.

And so he left, believing that his true love was not true after all.

Day after day, Belle tried everything she could think of to cure her ailment. She could not cast spells, and her lips would not part for any kind of restorative potion. Day after day, Cunning and the young wizard grew closer, though he still pined for Belle.

One day, a little bird came and sang to Belle on her windowsill.

"Your love is to be married to Cunning!" it chirped, "even though he still loves you! You must find a way to tell him how you feel!"

Belle looked helplessly at her wand. What good was being a witch now? She pointed it at her throat. Desperately, she thought every curative spell, ever counter jinx, every and charm that could help that she knew. Nothing worked.

"You must try!" sang the bird, and it flew away.

Every day drew closer to the dreaded wedding, and every moment, Belle pointed her wand at herself, desperately thinking enchantments, over and over. Every day she came closer to total despair, but every day she rallied when thinking of her one true love.

Finally, the day of the wedding arrived. Cunning had come the night before, inviting her to go, and she planned to, even if it meant seeing the loss of her love forever. She put on her best robes, and walked outside.

She was shocked to see that, where she had planted the flowers, whole bushes and flowerbeds had sprung. She made herself up a splendid bouquet, with her wand concealed inside. She thought every charm as hard as she could while she walked to the wedding, but it was too no avail.

She took her place in the seats, and her eyes met with those of her love. He looked just as sad as she felt, but he did not approach her.

The wedding began, and Belle had to watch in silence as Cunning walked down the isle, knowing that it should have been herself. Cunning and the young wizard took hands, and he tried to smile, though Belle could see that his heart was not in it.

The man at the front, in long white robes speak.

"If anyone can think of a reason these two people should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

At this point, many people turned around to look at Belle, for they knew that she and the wizard belonged together, and could not understand her long silence.

Her eyes met with the eyes of Cunning, and the latter smiled a cruel smile.

Bell thought to herself 'I know! I know a reason!' she thought it three times, and was as surprised as anyone when her mouth fell open the last time, and the words were shouted out to the whole crowd. No one, however, was as shocked as Cunning, who fainted dead away on the spot. While she was unconscious, Belle told her story, and she and her love embraced. He slipped the ring onto Belle's finger, beaming, and the man pronounced them married. When Cunning awoke, she could see the terrible anger towards her in the wizard's eyes.

"I see that you think silence is the ultimate punishment," he said, eyes burning. "So let me present you with a gift. The power to express what you are thinking!" and with that he swung his wand, and immediately all of her thoughts came spilling out of her mouth, one after the other, and she had no power to control it.

"Never again will she trick anyone," the wizard said, and he and Belle lived happily ever after.

This story seems to be about the invention of the non-verbal spell, as it seems to be a foreign idea to these marriageable-aged witches and wizards. There is a huge suspension of disbelief in the story, that she would not think to nod or blink to communicate with her love interest. The lack of ability to write could perhaps have been excused in the age it was first told, but in today's world seems just plain silly. Also, the character of Belle seemingly does not have to eat or drink to survive, nor sleep. For these reasons, it is usually told to younger children, whose suspension of disbelief is more developed than that of their older compatriots. 


End file.
